A Dance to remember -- A FAGE 12 gift for Ninkita
by DeJean Smith
Summary: Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes…As the song from Rent goes, there is a finite number of minutes to a year, but how many of those minutes are memorable? How many slip by carelessly, with no thought to their importance? And how many hold events that will change our lives forever? A FAGE 12 offering for Ninkita.
1. Chapter 1

**FAGE 12. Never Too Late to Start Anew**

**Title: A Dance to Remember**

**Written for: Ankita Kaul / Ninkita**

**Written by: DeJean Smith**

**Rating: M**

**Summary/Prompts used: **_**Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes…**_**As the song from Rent goes, there is a finite number of minutes to a year, but how many of those minutes are memorable? How many slip by carelessly, with no thought to their importance? And how many hold events that will change our lives forever? A FAGE 12 offering for Ninkita using the prompts dancing in the dark, a musician who plays an unusual instrument, and strangers meeting on a bus.**

**If you would like to see all the stories that are part of this exchange visit the Facebook group: Fanficaholics Anon: Where Obsession Never Sleeps, or add the C2 to get all the stories direct to your inbox.**

**A special thank you to my banner maker, DD2, and my pre-readers, DD2 and Beppa. So happy y'all enjoyed my ramblings.**

**Chapter 1:**

Bella stared out the front window of her new home, a tiny but adorable two bedroom, two and a half bath townhouse, in a safe but reasonably priced Seattle suburb. She anxiously awaited the arrival of most of her worldly belongings and above all, her beloved truck. She glanced at her watch. Jake was two hours late, and if he did not get his butt in gear, she was going to have to leave for rehearsal before unloading.

_Well, he can do it by himself_, she rationalized internally.

Bella shook her head, fighting off the annoyance that became more and more prevalent when thinking about her on again, off again boyfriend. He had not wanted her to take the job with the Seattle Symphony for Children, citing its newness and lack of cachet—a word he had to have looked up, because it certainly was not part of his everyday vocabulary. From the beginning of their relationship, their times together had been more like friends than romantic partners. Neither pushed going that next step because they were happy being each other's plus one at parties or movies and nothing more. Now with her moving a few hours away, she had wondered what would become of the two of them.

Oboists slash English Horn players were not in high demand without moving great distances from her small hometown of Forks, Washington, so when the position in Seattle was announced, Bella jumped at the opportunity. She absolutely loved the concept of a symphony created purely for the purpose of performing great pieces before audiences composed of children of all ages. When she was told the endowment included scheduled special days of sensory sensitive concerts, dancing-in-the-aisles parties, and even participatory events alongside fieldtrips from schools, Bella was sold. She had to become a part of this endeavor. Fortunately, the hiring committee agreed, so with a joyful heart, she packed her bags and headed to Seattle.

_Who let the dogs out…._

"Hey, Jake. Get lost?"

The silence that greeted her after she answered the phone made Bella think she had been hung up on, but after a quick glance at her phone, she saw the call was still connected.

"Jake?"

"Hey, Bella."

His tone immediately told her something was amiss.

"What's wrong?"

"Well, first, I'm alright."

"You're alright? Why do I need to know you're alright?" Dread settled in the center of her chest and deepened the longer it took him to speak.

"Ikindawreckedyourtruck."

"Slower and in English this time. You what?"

A deep breath on his end did nothing to alleviate her fears.

"I kinda wrecked your truck."

"What do you mean by kinda?" She began to rub her forehead in frustration. Most of her clothes, a few pieces of furniture her dad, Charlie, had foisted off on her, and her books were loaded in the back of The Beast, as she lovingly called it.

"Newton's dumpster was moved and …" His voice trailed off.

"Newton's dumpster? Why were you anywhere near Newton's dumpster? That's behind their store."

"Well, Nessie had a few errands she wanted to run during her lunch break, and you know Mike only gives them thirty minutes, so I offered to run her around town. She was really grateful and…" His voice trailed off, and she knew from experience something had happened that he did not want to admit.

"Nessie the girl who has had a crush on you since birth?"

"Yes."

"Nessie the girl you've sworn was nothing more than an annoying little sister type?"

"That was before. People change. She's not that bad anymore."

Bella found his defense enlightening. And the fact she felt nothing at that revelation even more so.

"So, continue. And?"

"Bella, I hit the dumpster, okay. Don't make me say what happened before."

"I see." Her mind flew to a dozen different options of what had distracted Jake, but she certainly did not want to venture any further into the possibilities.

"Anyhow, I wanted to let you know I'm going to fix the truck. I just need to wait to payday before I can get parts and do it."

"When?"

"Last week."

"Payday was last week?"

"No, I wrecked it last week."

"Jacob Ephraim Black, you wrecked my truck last week and didn't tell me? I've been waiting all day for you to get…"

"This is why I didn't tell you when it happened! I knew you would get upset!"

"Upset does not begin to cover what I'm feeling right now. I'm due at rehearsal in two hours. How am I going to get there now?"

"Uber?"

"_I_ don't get paid for another two weeks, and I'm a little thin right now after buying this house!" She took a deep breath and blew it out loudly, spinning on her heel in frustration as she tried to come up with a solution. "Look. Have Charlie make a claim on my insurance for me so I can get a rental."

"He won't do that. I already asked. He 'won't let his baby girl's insurance go up because a stupid mutt was getting a blow job in her truck.'"

Had she not been horrified by his words, Bella would have been impressed by the impersonation of her father's voice.

"You _what_?"

"And I kinda forgot to mail in my insurance check so I was dropped a few months ago, so there's that."

Bella wondered if she could kill someone through the phone as he continued talking.

"So, Seth and Leah are going to bring part of your stuff up in the station wagon over the weekend. They said they would call and set it up."

"Jake."

"I'm really sorry you found out this way."

"Jake, I…"

She was completely speechless. She had no idea how to talk to him. All the words she wanted to throw at him evaporated in thin air.

After a moment of silence where Jake wisely said nothing, she closed her eyes and took a cleansing breath.

"Arrange for my stuff to be brought up as soon as you can."

"I will."

"And Jake?"

"Yes?"

"Sell my truck and send me the money."

And she ended the call.

Bella slowly slid into the thrift store chair she had purchased and proudly placed in the front window. It was a perfect seat, beautifully stuffed, and just waiting for an off day, a cup of chai, and a good book. Absentmindedly stroking the deep burgundy velvet armrest, she took a deep breath and slowly released it, staring mutely at her phone.

And felt nothing.

Well, in truth, she felt more intensely about losing her truck than her now ex-boyfriend. She was going to miss "The Beast." So many memories were tied to that bucket of bolts. She learned to drive in it, taken friends to Port Angeles on the weekends for shopping and fun, and gotten her first kiss while sitting on the tailgate.

Now it was gone in a moment. The idea of ever sitting behind the wheel squicked her out. She sighed deeply, realizing she could not change the past.

"Well, no time to waste," Bella muttered to herself, sending a quick text to her dad, telling him to make sure Jake got a fair price for her truck. A quick shudder ran down her spine as she once again visualized what must have distracted Jake. After a moment to recover and clear her mind, she searched for a ride share, ordered one, and prayed she would not be late her first day of rehearsal.

**Thank you for reading the opening chapter of A Dance to Remember. I hope you are enjoying it.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

Bella discovered public transportation was more fun than dealing with traffic, especially when in a new city. She could sit back and read or listen to a podcast or her favorite, people watch. Most people did not bother acknowledging her, caught up in their own little world. Those were the most fun to watch. Bella would create her own stories about their lives off the bus, but when they rode with her, she observed every detail.

Tuesdays and Thursdays brought her Victoria and James, an argumentative couple that did not mind who heard their debates. Neither were particularly vicious in their discussions, just passionate.

And loud.

By the end of the second week, Bella knew Victoria's red curls were natural and James' blond hair was not, that her favorite food was Indian and it gave him gas, and that both felt term limits were the way to go and the Electoral College had long outlasted its usefulness. They were a fun couple to watch and seemed to love each other very much even when they agreed to disagree.

Monday and Thursday meant Alice and Jasper, an odd couple if ever there was one, rode the bus on Bella's morning commute, and Alice was alone on Bella's return home. Alice, petite, boisterous, and ever the fashion plate, loved to greet everyone with a smile and a kind word. Heartfelt compliments on outfits, reading choices, and even seat selection bubbled out of the vivacious young woman who had obviously never met a stranger. Jasper was more of a quiet sort, tall and lean with wise beyond his years gray eyes. Bella noticed his left arm bore horrible scars as if something had tried to rip his flesh from his body, but she was too timid to inquire the cause. After two weeks, Bella discovered Alice worked at a local art gallery, designing and documenting the exhibits, and Jasper was a doctoral student at a local university, earning a degree in American History. The couple balanced each other out completely, and Bella found herself wishing she had someone like that in her life.

Fridays brought a plethora of tourists to the bus route, making seating a little tight, but Bella enjoyed watching the visitors go back and forth from their phones or physical maps to the bus route's stops that rotated on an LED screen above the passenger's heads. More than once, she learned about must-see places and even her now favorite Thai restaurant had come from someone she had overheard.

But her favorite day of the week for her commute was performance days. When she needed to be at the theater several hours before a show in order to dress, warm up, go through conductor's notes, eat the snack she had packed and hydrate before she took her place, those were the days Edward rode the bus.

Three weeks after she started rehearsals, Bella noticed an exhausted young man board the bus near the university. He was clad in scrubs and had an ID badge clipped to the neckline which is how she knew his name. The only empty seat was next to her, so she scooted over to give him as much room as possible, and he gratefully plopped down.

"_Thank you."_

"_Long day?"_

To this day, she had no idea why she asked, but she would never regret it.

"_And it's not over yet." He removed his glasses and scrubbed his face, heaving a deep sigh._

"_Mine is just beginning."_

"_That sucks."_

_He immediately blushed, embarrassed at his observation which she waved off. She knew from her own experience that when tired, she often said things she did not completely think through._

"_I play in the Seattle Symphony for Children. This week we have evening performances. Next week, it's afternoon and evening."_

_He nodded and fiddled with his backpack that rested between his feet._

"_I'm a nursing student at UDub. I'm in the middle of my clinicals, and I got called into work an extra shift. I don't mind because I need the money, but I would kill for a few hours of uninterrupted sleep."_

_Bella nodded, remembering how difficult it was to balance eating, sleeping, working, practicing, and studying as she earned her performance degree._

All too soon, the bus had reached her destination, and she prepared to disembark. With a cheery farewell and good luck, she left, not knowing she would ever see the handsome young man again, but as fate would have it, he seemed to be on the bus every day she had a performance. Sometimes, he would sit near her, other times he did not. It never was uncomfortable, Bella thought. It all depended upon where the seemingly permanently exhausted man could find a place to land. But she looked forward to those times, because frankly, who did not like having a handsome, friendly man around. She also had the feeling, watching how he acted around everyone else, taking into consideration his chosen profession, and just that ever-trusted gut reaction, he was a caregiver in the truest sense. If she ever needed someone's help, he would be there. And those are the kind of people one can never know too many.

**Again, thank you for reading. I hope you are enjoying this short story as much as I did writing it.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

And so a routine began. Even after the money from the sale of her truck landed in Bella's bank account, she continued to take the bus to and from work. She enjoyed the freedom not having to worry about parking and traffic patterns brought her and made friends with a few of her co-workers who lived on her side of town. Her favorite was the McCarty's. Emmett and Rose had been with the Seattle Symphony for Children since its inception and were friends of the family that provided the seed money for the endowment that brought the dream to life. She was a percussion master, throwing her entire Amazonian body into her craft, while the former college football linebacker played the violin with skill and grace. Watching the two of them perform was as much a visual as an auditory experience, and both were among the top requested performers to visit the local schools. After several discussions over home packed meals, the duo had asked Bella to bring her oboe and English Horn the next time they were called. She looked forward to the day that would happen and was again pleased to have made some friends in her new hometown.

On rehearsal days, Bella would wake, shower and dress, prepare breakfast and lunch, check her e-mails while waiting at the bus stop that was only a block away, and once onboard, answer any messages, schedule the few private lessons she had managed to pick up, and either people watch or read or listen to a podcast. The bus would let her off a few blocks away from the theater's performer's entrance, and she would tote her instrument (or instruments, depending upon the show), a carryall, and sometimes extra music down the street.

Once off the bus, she passed a few shops. Depending upon if she was ahead of schedule or not, she would window shop, gazing at the goods available. And every once and a while, she popped into Recovery Café's latest endeavor, a wonderful coffeeshop that employed the homeless and provided them with training that would aid them in obtaining permanent employment and treated herself to a latte and scone. After rehearsal, lessons, and other errands as needed, she simply rode the bus home and spent the evening in domestic bliss, cleaning, doing laundry, and other such boring, everyday events.

On performance days, the preparation was often the same, just later in the day. Bella would do her makeup just a little heavier since the stage lights would wash out her already fair coloring.

"_You look like a ghostie, dear Bella!" Maestro Aro had announced from the back of the theater. "And you, Tyler. A little heavier on the foundation, please. We want to wow but not WOW our audience." He shuddered dramatically before striding down the center aisle and taking his place on the conducting platform._

Everyone had laughed good naturedly, but Bella had taken to YouTube and found several videos to help her create a natural but professional look, earning compliments from Alice as well as Aro. Her favorite reaction had been from Edward who climbed aboard the bus, yawning widely. He saw her just as he finished, and his eyes widened. The only seat available that day was behind her but Bella was certain he had murmured 'bella Bella' as he walked by her, causing her to sit a little straighter in her seat, proud she had managed not to look like a clown. And a compliment from a handsome young man had always been a boost to her ego whether the giver be mid-twenties or three.

After most evening performances, Emmett and Rose offered to drive Bella home so she would not have to ride the bus home alone. Sometimes they stopped for a late-night snack and others Bella invited the couple in for coffee and treats. Soon Bella settled into a comfortable routine that became typical and forgettable but oh so comfortable.

**Recovery Café is a real place in Seattle. I have taken a lot of liberties in how it is portrayed in this story, but based off my rudimentary research, they do wonderful things to help people like Peter and Charlotte. You can add a dot org to their name and read up on them if you would like.**

**Again, thank you for reading. I hope you are still enjoying the story!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:**

The day started like any other performance day. Bella decided to treat herself to a scone and entered the Recovery Café ahead of her normal schedule. Sadly, that meant Edward was not on her bus this morning, but she wanted to sit and enjoy her coffee and treat rather than juggle it and both of her instrument cases. Today's performance had her playing featured solos on both the oboe and the English horn. She was almost giddy in her excitement.

Bella's favorite employees, Peter and Charlotte, were behind the counter, and they greeted her with broad grins and welcomes. The couple had recently been promoted to co-managers and proudly shared their news with Bella who was just as overjoyed as they were. The two had lost everything, including a beloved pet Siamese cat named Thai-Am in an apartment fire two years before and had fallen into some poor life choices, their words, in order to escape the pain. Recovery Café had provided them with the assistance they needed to overcome the physical and emotional toll they had gone through and they were on track to graduate in a few months.

Bella sat at cozy table near the case displaying the goodies for sale, checking the news on her phone as she picked at her lemon blueberry scone, her oboe and English horn cases between her feet.

Suddenly, loud, argumentative voices pulled her away from her reading, and she looked up to see a tall, heavyset man towering over Charlotte's petite frame.

"You need to leave," she ordered, poking him in the chest.

"Not without my money."

"You didn't work, you don't get paid."

"I need my money!"

The gentleman growled and spat as Charlotte and Peter calmly denied him.

"Fred, you want me to call your sponsor?" Peter offered, slowly moving toward the panic button below the counter.

"No, I don't want my damned sponsor! I want…" Fred realized where Peter was going and lunged for the cash register.

With a practiced move, Charlotte poked Fred in the eyes, causing him to howl and draw back. In his fury at being thwarted, he stumbled backward, landing on Bella's table. His weight proved to be too much for the lightweight wood, and it collapsed, knocking her and her chair over. Bella tumbled to the floor with a loud crash.

Somewhere in the back of her startled brain, Bella remembered the admonition of every director and music teacher she ever had and scrambled to protect her instrument cases as she fell. Pain shot through her right arm, and she realized she had tried to catch herself and most of her weight landed on the heel of one hand.

"Fuck!" she muttered, pulling her arm to her chest, tears prickling at her eyes.

"Don't move," a familiar voice came as gentle hands took her arm.

"What happened?" she asked, looking around the shop, confused at why Edward was wearing an usher's uniform and in Recovery Café.

A quick glance around the room revealed Peter talking on the phone with whom she assumed to be the police, Charlotte by his side offering details, and Fred was nowhere to be found. She turned to face a kneeling Edward who was carefully examining her arm, wrist, and fingers.

"Can you move your fingers?"

She wiggled all five, wincing a little at the movement.

"How does it feel?"

"Like I sprained my wrist."

"Do you want to go to get it x-rayed?"

"I've sprained my wrist before." She rolled her wrist a few times. It was tender, but a few Ibuprofen and a day or two of rest and she knew it would be fine.

"Anything else hurt? It looks like your chair collapsed under you."

Bella did a quick internal assessment. She was certain her rump was bruised, and tomorrow was going to be a bit painful, but otherwise, she was physically sound. Edward relaxed after she shook her head.

"I'm going to be sore tomorrow."

"No doubt."

She moved to stand and after a brief hesitation, took Edward's hand to assist her. Once on her feet, Bella gave her contact information to Charlotte in case the police needed a statement. Peter said he would be in touch if they needed any information, but since the perpetrator was known by the staff and a camera had captured everything, he doubted she would hear anything.

"You're free to go."

With Edward carrying her instruments, Bella slowly exited the café and headed toward the performer's entrance in mutual silence.

"How?" she murmured, not entirely sure what she wanted to ask as the two headed toward the theater.

"I got out of lecture early, so I was able to go home and change instead of riding my normal bus. I hated I missed you, but in the end, I was walking by just as this man barreled out of the café."

"Fred." Bella realized she was in a bit of a shocked state and one-word answers were the best she could do right now.

"The guy in the store ran out after him and recognized me and must have remembered I am usually in my scrubs, so he pulled me into check on you."

She nodded as he opened the door and motioned for her to enter.

"It all happened so fast. I just—" Bella flexed her wrist and realized her blouse was torn at her elbow. Closer observation revealed she had caught the fabric on something sharp and her arm was bleeding.

Edward noticed her gingerly poking her fingers through the hole and coming back with a bit of blood on them.

"I'll go get a first aid kit. You take a seat." He guided her to the performer's dressing room and disappeared.

Word of her injury spread quickly and Irina, the concertmaster, Zaphrina, the backstage manager, and even Maestro Aro himself appeared one by one to make sure she was of sound mind and body.

"Bella Bella," Aro murmured as Edward gently rolled up her sleeve and examined the shallow gash. "You are not performing tonight."

With one raised hand he silently stopped her protests before they left her lips.

"You have had too much adrenaline, yes? It would not be wise to have you crash and pass out on the stage. What would the children think?"

Bella winced as the cold saline wash rinsed her wound and shook her head as Edward murmured an apology. She understood Aro's caution, but she had never missed a performance.

"But tonight's schedule is oboe heavy. The solo from _Swan Lake_, _Scheherazade_, and the Star Wars Medley," she argued. Bella loved the cantina scene part and the squeals of recognition from the audience always brought joy to her heart. And that did not include the English horn piece.

"Then I play." Aro shrugged. "We cut the English horn, though. I am not successful on that."

From the deep recesses of her mind, Bella remembered that Aro was an accomplished oboist in his own right, but to play three such challenging pieces on short notice sounded impossible.

"We turn it into a lesson," he continued with a casual wave of one hand. "I will teach that life is full of little moments, and we often have to change plans at the last minute. How we react to those moments and what we remember in the future, that is what is important. Life is not perfect. We will take an accident," he motioned to her newly bandaged arm, "and say it gave an old man the chance to play once again. If I hit a wrong note, I hit a wrong note. They will not remember the wrong ones, only the right."

Aro shrugged. It certainly would not be the first time, nor the last, that a wrong note would be played within the halls of the Seattle Symphony for Children.

"The beauty of music, that is what they will remember." He straightened himself and with a nod, turned on his heel to announce to the others the change in tonight's program.

"I need to go check in," Edward said softly, placing Bella's lunch bag in front of her. "You probably should eat something with protein."

She nodded and opened her tote as he left the room, pulling out a turkey sandwich and taking a bite. Bella found she was surprisingly hungry, and it was quickly devoured. She tried to remember how often she had seen Edward on the bus. It was almost every performance day, come to think of it. She had just never put two and two together. But why should she? He was just someone on her bus that she occasionally had a conversation with about the weather or traffic or how school was going. Bella wracked her brain to recall if she had ever passed him in the halls or around the theater. With his wild, auburn hair and well over six feet tall height, he was not someone you could dismiss, but obviously, she had.

"How did I not know you work here?" she murmured, reaching for her water bottle.

"I follow you in almost every performance," Edward said, startling her. "Sorry. Didn't mean to jolt you. Maestro has arranged for me to stay if you would like, to make sure you are alright."

"He worries about us all."

"One of the reasons he was chosen for this particular position. He has a way of making the music real for the audience as well as coax the most out of the performers. Anyhow, I usually get off the bus at the next stop since it's closer to the staff entrance. I go change clothes in the bathrooms and clock in. There's always a lot of people milling about. That's why you didn't realize I work here, too."

The sounds of the symphony warming up drifted down the hallway and the lights dimmed. The distinct click of a baton on the conductor's stand caused Bella to straighten in her seat. Years of performances and rehearsals made the reaction second nature even though she was nowhere near the stage.

Soft, lilting notes began to fill the air and Bella held her breath as she took in just how beautiful the music was. _Swan Lake_, one of her favorite pieces.

"I don't get to hear what it sounds like to the audience very often," she whispered when the oboe solo began, hesitantly at first and then with more power and energy. "I used to dance around the living room to this song, dreaming I was…"

Maestro Aro still had the skills, Bella thought just before the squawk that only a double reed could make cut through the air. She heard the rumble of Aro's voice and could picture the excuse he made and the chuckle from members of the symphony as they responded.

Another click of the baton and the piece began again. Soon, she closed her eyes and rocked her head back and forth in measure with the flow of the music.

"Dance with me?"

Bella's eyes flew open and her face blushed faintly. She had forgotten Edward was still there.

"I…"

"Dance with me?" He stood before her, his hand extended. "I've tried to get up the nerve to ask you out every day for weeks, but I couldn't figure out how. Every performance, I can't keep my eyes off you when you play. I am enthralled and want to learn everything I can about you. Please?"

She hesitated, but slowly her hand took his, and she stood. He slid one arm around her waist as she put one hand on his shoulder.

"This okay?" he murmured as the two moved around the dressing room, avoiding open instrument cases, tables, and chairs.

"Perfect," she replied softly, a faint smile gracing her lips.

"Always." Edward's grin matched hers as he whirled her around, careful not to make her dizzy.

***sniff* I'm going to miss these two! Thank you for reading. Just a tiny epilogue to go…**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5:**

"Ladies and gentlemen, a round of applause for Edward and Bella, our newlyweds!"

The sounds of Ella James' _At Last_ began just as the DJ finished his introduction, and two lovers swirled around the dancefloor as their friends and family gathered to toast their wedding day.

"I'm still surprised you didn't want to do this to something a little more symphonic, my wife," Edward murmured, smiling at his beaming bride.

"Oh, I didn't think I could top that first dance memory, my husband."

"True. It was a dance to remember."

**Again, a huge thank you to the FAGE organizers. I have really enjoyed this opportunity to get back into writing. Thank you Ninkita for the wonderful prompts. I hope you loved this story. **

**Another big thank you to DD2 and Beppa for the banner and pre-reading.**


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